Monday, 14 September 2009

It's been an ok couple of weeks since I last wrote. I've been trying to get back on track and I suppose its going well enough, maybe not as well as i would have liked. I've been having a few relationship problems, which i wont go into, but the stress definitely takes its toll. I have continued to go out everyday to the gym, or to the shops. I've been out for lunches with friends. I have continued with the pub quiz on a Monday. In fact I have been very social but aware that this all takes place locally and its time to start pushing outwards again.

Couple of new things I have done. I went to the opticians for an eye test since its been about 9 years since my last one. But no glasses needed (secretly hoped I maybe needed a pair because I think they are quite trendy). And at the weekend I went to see a play. It has been a long time since I have been to anything remotely like a play and i loved every minute. The play is called 'Singing, I'm no a Billy, He's a Tim'. I think you have to have some knowledge of religion and bigotry in Scotland to appreciate it but it was hilarious and i totally recommend it. The story is about our biggest 2 football teams. Here in Scotland, most people either support the team Rangers, and the others support Celtic. Typically a Rangers fan is protestant and Celtic supporters are catholics. This has caused huge rivalry for generations. Anyway, the story is about a Rangers fan named Billy, and a Celtic fan named Tim who are stuck in a prison cell together much to there outrage. At the end of the play I got my picture taken on set. So there you see me, Billy, Tim and the Turnkey Harry. A fantastic anxiety free night.

The following night i was sitting in bed relaxing when suddenly I felt Very wet down below. Hmmm I really thought I had wet myself although I have never had this problem before. Unfortunately when I looked down I realised I was sitting in a huge pool of blood. I stood up slowly as the blood continued to pour from me and made my way to the bathroom. As i sat on the toilet the blood rushed from me like a tap (faucet). I knew this was far from normal and quickly called on my mum. My poor mother. She wasn't prepared for the carnage in the bathroom. It was literally everywhere. So of course my mind went into overdrive. What was happening to me? This has to be connected to the miscarriage but what on earth is it? But what worried me most was the amount of blood I was losing. I cannot describe it and I'm sorry if you are squeamish but it really seemed like pints. So i began to go into shock.

I dragged myself back onto bed and began to shake. Suddenly a cold swear covered me and the panic began. Oh it was awful. Then I thought I was going to vomit. but no doubt about it, i needed to get help and FAST! Mentally I was preparing myself for passing out. Losing that amount of blood would surely mean that i was going to lose consciousness at any minute. We rang the hospital and I explained the situation, but focusing MORE on the agoraphobia. I guess i wanted them to fix me at home but I knew myself that I had to go to hospital immediately. I thought about how when I'm going somewhere i NEED to be the person driving, but i knew it probably wasn't the best thing at this time so I asked them to send me an ambulance. I felt that in the back of an ambulance, where i wouldn't see the outside, i would handle the journey better. Even though the whole way there i knew exactly where i was as I know the roads so well. But then another thought came which you might understand. Bizarrely i thought i would maybe find it hard to deal with. The fact that one minute i was in my street and the next when the doors opened I would be somewhere completely different outside of my comfort zone. Does that make sense?

The paramedics arrived to what looked like a crime scene and they couldn't have been better with me. I was put into the ambulance and hooked up to the machines. My blood pressure it seemed was fine. Also at this stage the panic attacks had died and I felt surprisingly ok, although i was still thinking that if the bleeding was continuing I would still pass out. Mum came with me in the ambulance and Gerry, who i called, followed us in his car.

I was fine during the journey. I wonder if I had too much on my mind to think about the agoraphobia. But i felt that i really had no choice this time. I had to go to hospital regardless of the panic. I was admitted into hospital and put in a room. While there I felt ok. I did worry a few times about the journey home. I wouldn't be in an ambulance where I couldn't see my surroundings. I would be in a car and more likely to panic since the journey home would take a while PLUS i wouldn't be the one driving. I imagined the journey taking forever with me curled up in a ball in the back seat freaking out. I tried really hard to ignore that feeling resigning myself to the fact I would probably be kept in hospital for at least a day and would most likely be having some sort of operation or blood transfusion. Another worry was, what am I going to do if they send my mum and Gerry home. Yes i could beg and plead for someone to be able to stay with me but I doubted very much it would be allowed. I ignored it though and figured I would deal with that should the situation arrive.

And so i was put into a room with my mum and Gerry to wait on the gyno doctor. I was terrified to stand up as I didn't know what the heck would fall out of me, but lying down seemed to have calmed the bleeding. We waited from 3am till 9 am for me to finally be seen by the right person. in between that time I had to tell my story over and over to several different people. Very frustrating. Also to be honest i didnt think much of the service lol. I was in a room where i was hooked up to some machines, but after a trip to the toilet I wasn't attached to anything. I was alone (with my mum and Gerry) but with no medical people. I could have been bleeding to death! Dramatic? Maybe, but that's how I felt. I actually added the pic of me in hospital because the whole time i was so calm and actually cracking jokes. I was only kidding when i took the picture and said it would be going on facebook but its come on handy for this post all the same. The only feeling i really had was guilt. My poor mother. I woke her from her sleep and obviously she wouldn't have stayed at home while i was going through that but I felt guilty as she looked awful and a few times i thought she was actually going to be sick. I even told her to go home and id be ok with Gerry but she refused.

So i was finally seen i was checked inside and out. The Doctor checked my heart and lungs and then said this. 'We think this is your period. Since you haven't bled since the miscarriage, we think its just very severe as its your first time'. I couldn't believe it. 'You can go' She said. Surely that wasn't correct. I have heard horror stories about things going wrong in that hospital before so I needed to be certain she was right. but apparently it does happen and they have seen it before. I protested that even the paramedic admitted he had never seen so much blood. But she seemed to think i was OK to leave. And so i did. I bared myself for the panic that was about to come. I had sent Gerry home for a shower thinking i was going to be there for hours but suddenly i was standing outside of the hospital ready to leave. There i was with no car, no money, and no one to take me home. Thank goodness my mum was there or I don't know what i would have done. I rang Gerry and he made his way to come get us. We travelled home and i waited for the panic, but it didn't come. I even told him to stop at McDonald's and get us some breakfast, so i was in no rush to get home. Still cracking jokes I told Gerry that he isn't allowed to complain at me for a week. He cant moan and tell me that I haven't gone anywhere with him because we had just spent a night out in another town together, and even had a meal after it ha.

The situation was scary, but in a way it has shown me again that I can cope. I have it within me to calm myself. I had been worrying a lot about distance again, and although I'm not ready to travel for miles and miles, it has made me confident enough to get back out and start pushing. Also Gerry was fantastic at the hospital, I don't know what I would have done without him. It put or relationship problems into perspective and I feel very grateful and very happy now. Every cloud...

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About Me

At 35 years old i have been dealing with Panic attacks and Agoraphobia for 15 years. It's has been tough but i have dedided to write in detail what i've gone through and how i've coped. I hope that it can help others who are in my situation or the loved ones of people dealing with the same kind of problems.
To anyone who reads this blog feel free to leave me a comment.